


This Bouquet Means More Than What its Flowers Suggest, I Promise

by KittyMotor



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, POV First Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 17:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16391852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyMotor/pseuds/KittyMotor
Summary: Going to the flower shop before his shift is always a win-win-lose situation for Karkat.Win (drawing the flowers)- win (seeing the cute guy who works at said flower shop)- lose (having a crush on said cute guy at said flower shop when he just so happens to be straight)





	This Bouquet Means More Than What its Flowers Suggest, I Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> An anniversary present for my boyfriend.  
> Rated T for language.

It isn’t often that I really venture between work at INKOGNITO ARTS and my dark, cheap apartment. As a tattoo artist and piercer, I genuinely enjoy my work and the people I work with- not that there are many- so I don’t find too much of a reason to get out more than I really need to. I don’t have a significant other, not too many friends who’s schedules work with mine, and honestly not a whole lot of spare energy. However, there’s one place I frequently find myself returning to no matter my mood or weather: Petal to the Metal. The little flower shop isn’t even a block from the parlor and open significantly earlier than when I have to be at work, so whenever I feel like sketching out some plants their doors are open. The plants are why I first started showing up, but I started getting to know the workers over a few visits and I couldn’t help but keep coming back for one in particular: Dave.  
“So whatcha thinkin’ about over there, Karkles? You’ve been staring at those sunflowers for, like, ten minutes and haven’t even moved your pencil or paints or nothin’.” His easy voice snaps me out of my lull and I turn my head his direction, taking in his ashy-blond hair and freckled face, the latter of which has a small smirk spread across it. “We both know I don’t mind you loitering before going to work but usually do you something-”  
“I’m thinking about how stupid your fucking shirt is,” I retort quickly, not letting him begin to ramble. He looks down and pulls out his shirt to read it from behind his sunglasses, taking in his red-sleeved shirt that just says ‘Blow me’ next to a picture of a dandelion puff.  
“Bro, what the fuck’s wrong with my shirt?” He asks, almost sounding hurt and disappointed. I can’t help but snicker at him, leaning back in the chair he grabbed from the back room for me as I start to sketch out the flowers in front of me.  
“It’s stupid; didn’t you hear me the first time?” I tilt my head slightly and chew on the post to one of my snakebites as I try to get the folds of the petals just right. I allow myself to focus on drawing rather than filling the silence, listening to Dave tap out a beat on the counter to go with the quiet lo-fi hip hop playing over the shop’s speakers. I draw a few of the sunflowers before finding some snapdragons to sketch closer to the counter. “I will be real, though,” I see Dave turn his head just enough to look at me. “I kinda want one of those stupid shirts for pajamas or something.” I hear him huff a laugh and lean over to look at the sketchbook.  
“Maybe there are some with fuckin’ whatever you’re drawin’ there.” He gestures vaguely across the page and I furrow my brows before looking at him with a confused expression.  
“You don’t even know what fucking flowers are in your own damn store? What’s wrong with you?”  
“Nah, nah, I do, I do. I just didn’t really wanna think of the names, but if this is a quiz I can do it.” He points to each of the flowers I’ve put down so far. “Sunflowers, snapdragons, mums- or chrysanthemum if you wanna get fancy, forsythia, and goldenrod.” I raise an eyebrow at him, trying to look as unimpressed as possible. “Bam, goteem, I’ll take my grade, Mr. Karkat.”  
“First of all, it’s Mr. Vantas, and second of all, it’s no feat that you know this shit, seeing as you work here.” I try not to notice how he smells just a bit of cologne and apples as I push him away from my shoulder. He fumbles a bit and just barely catches himself from tripping, but tries to brush it off by just shrugging and walking back behind the counter.  
“You planning a bouquet there, Vantass?” I scoff and roll my eyes as I check the time, realizing I should get going.  
“Certainly not for you, dicklamp.” I barely catch how his shoulders slump just slightly, probably out of relief. He’s made it very clear that he isn’t interested in guys, constantly complimenting my art with clarifications of ‘no homo.’ “They’re my favorite flowers, anyway, so why the fuck would I get them for someone else? That’d be shitty.” I finish packing my things and zip up my bag, throwing it over my shoulder. “I need to go,though, but thanks for letting me sit in here for a while and doodle.” I head for the door.  
“Any time, man. Also I dunno, maybe some chicks are into the whole selfish-dude-gets-his-girl-his-favorite-flowers-rather-than-her-own thing-”  
“That isn’t even a thing, Jesus fucking Christ.” I step out into the cooler, mid-fall air and shout back, “Bye, Dave.” I barely hear his response before the door closes behind me. I sigh and shrug into my scarf a little more before heading down the road toward the parlor.  
  
Stepping inside, I’m greeted with faint rock music and the jingle of the doorbell. I toss my bag into my studio area as my friend and boss leans into the doorway.  
“I saw you through the window at Petal to the Metal earlier.” Kanaya smiles at me warmly, if not a little predatorily. “When are you planning on asking him on a date, again?” I sigh heavily and check my schedule for the day.  
“I’m not,” I say as firmly as I can, shooting her a glare for extra measure. “He’s straight as a fucking pin, he told me himself.” I feel her eyes on me as I look down, not liking how disappointment creeps into my voice. I decide to paint until my first appointment, flipping open to the page I had been working on and digging my watercolors out of my bag.  
“Well, perhaps he’s as straight as a safety pin, Karkat.” She rests a hand on my shoulder and leans over me, looking at my work no doubt. “I suggest trying anyway, you know how things were with-”  
“I know, neither of you were sure about each other’s feelings until you were forward with one another.” I cut her off, a little tired of hearing about how well her relationship is going while the one I’m trying to get to is stagnant. “I refuse to let him think of me as just some predatory gay like some idiots like to think we are.” I pause, mixing my colors a bit and testing them on the corner of the page. “Tell Rose I say hi, by the way.”  
“Sure thing. If you need anything, you know where I am.” I hear the smile in her voice as she steps out to man the front counter. I play with the colors a bit more, not noticing how my colors are leaning towards reds and pale, ashen yellows.  
  
The next morning is uneventful at best, more leaning on the flat-out boring side of things. It’s 9:30 and I’m dressed, fed, and itching to leave to get my drawing in before noon when my shift starts. I grab my bag and head out towards the florist’s, I almost feel as if I’m being pulled there by a string attached to my chest. I look in through the window and feel my heart drop, not seeing Dave behind the counter. In fact I see no one manning the register. I push open the door anyway, breathing in the heavily-perfumed air, and the bell must have alerted whoever is in today.  
“Yo gimme two seconds I’ll be right out.” I grin as I hear Dave’s familiar voice, responding with,  
“Make sure you bring the chair with you, assache.”  
“Assache?” I can almost hear a laugh, but definitely a smile. It sounds like magic.  
“Yeah, because you’re a pain in my ass!” I set my bag down and rifle through it, getting out my sketchbook and pens until I hear footsteps coming closer. I look up to find him leaning in the door frame, chair in hand, but looking more than a little disheveled. “Shit, dude, are you okay? You look like you just ran in here.” He fidgets with the rim of the chair before handing it to me, quickly running a hand through his hair and frowning slightly.  
“Damn, ‘s it that obvious I didn’t get much sleep?” He laughs a little awkwardly and taps his fingers on his arm rhythmically. I can’t help but watch him, a little concerned with his squirreley behavior.  
“Uh, yeah. Did something happen?” I slowly sit down and get comfy, setting the sketchbook in my lap.  
“Fuck, uh, we’re just a little slammed right now, I guess. Lots of orders, you know.” Even with his dumbass shades still on it’s pretty clear he’s not making eye contact with me. “I’m behind on shit so I’m just gonna be working in the back lemme know when you’re gonna be leaving though, okay?” He gives a clearly forced smile and I just stare up at him.  
“Ooookay? Sure, I guess. No problem, do whatever you need to do.” I wave him off and exhale a breath I didn’t even know I was holding as I look back down at my pad. The time passes agonizingly slowly with no conversation. There’s no over-enthusiastic beatboxing to go with the quiet music, no snide remarks, nothing. I’m overly aware of the single ‘fuck’ and low muttering I hear from the back room where Dave escaped to. I barely get anything down, far too distracted by my thoughts and worries to get work done. I decide to leave early for my shift and get up, feeling as if my voice is too loud in the too-quiet shop. “I think I’m gonna head out, Dave.” I hear shuffling and he pokes his head out from behind the wall, looking almost like a child hiding something.  
“Hold on for a mo’, KitKat. I, uh, got somethin’ for you.” I feel like I hear a slight tremble in his voice as I just nod and give an okay. I pack up my bag and wait by the counter, back to the door frame and scroll through my phone. I hear an awkward cough and practically jump through my skin- Jesus he can be stealthy when he wants to. I spin on my heel, ready to berate him for startling me, but as soon as I see him my words die in my throat. He’s standing next to me with a bouquet of flowers in his shaking hands, one of sunflowers, forsythia, mums, snapdragons, and goldenrod, yellow and reds and oranges looking like a sunset all tied together with a single gray ribbon. I look from the bouquet to him, and he’s looking directly at me. I feel blush burning hot in my cheeks and ears, and I feel no words come to me. Luckily, he speaks before the silence runs too long. “So, well, I- fuck, I uh-” He takes one hand from the bouquet to push his shades into his hair and I can’t help but be mesmerized by his overwhelmingly beautiful eyes. They’re a gray-blue with red spots, flecks of scarlet dotting his sclera, and they’re focused directly on me. He swallows, “so you’ve been coming here a lot and we’ve been talking a ton and I know we don’t, like, hang out really at all but I like having you chill with me here and keep me company.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at the flowers, looking back to me to continue, “I don’t really know how to say what I want, but I know that I wanna keep seeing you but not like this, more like, uh-” He cuts himself off, clearly anxious, and quickly leans down over the bouquet to clumsily kiss me on the lips. “M-more like that. I wanna see you more like that, if that makes sense..” He trails off, nervousness coming off of him like waves as he searches my face for an answer. I open my mouth to speak, looking him over as my mind is merely static.  
“You… you want to date me…?” I ask, looking up at him, feeling myself smile just a bit. He nods, clutching the bouquet like a lifeline as if it’s the only thing keeping him from breaking down. I let myself smile fully now, and before I think about it I’m reaching up for his face, pulling him down into a deeper kiss. We’re both shaking by time we pull away from one another, but we’re both smiling at one another.  
“So I guess that’s a yes, huh?” He laughs out the question and I can’t help but laugh a little, too.  
“Yeah, dipshit, I thought that was clear.” I push him lightly and we’re both just ginning at each other like a couple of idiots. He pushes the bouquet towards me, significantly more relaxed.  
“You said these were your favorite, right?” I nod and take the flowers, feeling myself grin wider as I look down at them, almost tearing up with emotions. I reach out and pull him into a hug and another, shorter kiss. I barely whisper a thank you before the clock chimes.  
“Oh fuck.” I check my phone, realizing I’m running late. “I gotta go- uh-” he flicks a tag attached to the ribbon, it has red writing on it that I barely make out to be numbers. He pushes me towards the door and winks before sliding his shades back down onto his face.  
“Call me after work, ‘kay?” He does the stupid phone hand motion as I step out onto the sidewalk towards the parlor.  
I do.


End file.
